A Lucky Little Depressive

I’m not doing well at the moment, and neither is one of my friends. It got me thinking on things and that lead to the realisation that I am so insanely lucky to have The Wild One. And yes, everyone should say that about their significant other, but hear me out.

I live a lot closer to the skin now than I ever have. I make a point about talking about my struggle with my mental and physical health as I believe that this is important to lowering the stigma surrounding such things, but at the same time…

No one really sees the depths of it. Even my nearest and dearest only really see a very curated version of what’s happening. It’s not a deliberate thing, I don’t believe in hiding away from the world, but I’ve never been truly good at explaining what’s going on in my head and I am cautious about over sharing. Significantly, I actually don’t like to complain too much. I’m usually a very positive person, despite everything, and I just don’t.

At the end of the day the only one who really sees how difficult this has been, and continues to be, is The Wild One. They’re not in my head, the don’t necessarily understand it, but they’ve always seen me as exactly who I was and I’ve never really been able to hide anything from them…

And that makes me insanely lucky. I’m not alone in this. The Wild One is here, holding my hands, and telling me that I am loved and safe when I feel anything but loveable or safe. They make can’t fix it, but they are my touchstone to reality when I don’t have the ability to make the links myself, and they never quit out on me.

That’s a gift.

I don’t know what I’m going to do about this current resurge in my mental illness, but at least I know I’m not going it alone.